


Of Sexless Relationships

by Dangerously_Demonic



Series: Finding a New Life [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: I'm so so sorry Clayton, Multi, rp stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 10:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14054727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangerously_Demonic/pseuds/Dangerously_Demonic
Summary: Relationships aren't all that they're cracked up to be, and there's a reason why Clayton doesn't bother with them anymore.





	1. Ashlyn

Clayton quietly watched the blonde straddling his lap as she pulled her shirt off, revealing a lime green bra. She was gorgeous and he adored her. Reaching up, he brushed some hair out of her face, even as she tossed her bra behind her. It landed somewhere in the general area of his computer chair; he’d need to remember to find it before she left. Honestly, he was more interested in the idea of drawing Ashlyn than fucking her. Sometimes he was interested in the idea of sex, but most of the time he just went through the motions. Tonight, he doubted that he could even manage to get hard. He just _wasn’t_ _interested_.

It had nothing to do with her, she was beautiful and he loved her, but…He ju—Briefly, he was distracted from his thoughts by Ashlyn kissing him and he only returned it halfheartedly. Unfortunately, she noticed. Leaning back, she rested her hands on her thighs and frowned at him.

“Not liking what you see?”

“No! You’re gorgeous. I’m just…I’m not really interested tonight.” Inwardly, he cringed, knowing that this was going to be start of something messy. He’d been with three or four other girls and it had always ended badly. Usually, they wanted more than what he was interested in offering.

“Com’on, stop fucking around. I’ve seen you get into it.” She shifted herself a bit so that she could reach down and grope the front of his jeans. His lack of interest was blatant and it caused her to give him an accusatory glare when he batted her hand away.

“Seriously. I don’t wanna.”

“Jesus Christ, Jenny was right. You are a fucking fag.” Angrily, she shoved his chest, causing his head to hit the top of his headboard.

“Ashlyn.”

“Don’t Ashlyn me.” She got up and grabbed her shirt, pulling it on as she went to gather the rest of her things. “Forget about prom. I’m not going to be your damn cover.”

“Ashlyn, I’m not gay.”

She stood up, bra in hand, “Yeah? Then why don’t you ever want to have sex?”

“Because I’m just not interested, okay? I love you, I honestly do. I just don’t wan—” Clayton knew that he was explaining poorly, but he didn’t really know how to explain.

“Go see a fucking doctor. There’s something wrong with you.” She grabbed her backpack and stormed out of his room. Minutes later, he heard the sound of the front screen door slamming shut and bouncing against the frame.

Clayton stared at the wall for a moment, slowly processing what had just happened. Finally, he made a frustrated noise before grabbing the tv remote off the end table by his bed and threw it at the wall. It hit the wall with a loud thump and left a deep dent in the drywall before falling to the floor with a clatter.


	2. Mason

“Hey, Clayton? Can we talk for a bit?”

Clayton glanced up from stirring his soup at the brunet who was leaning forward onto the center island’s counter. Mason had been the first attempt at a relationship after getting out of the military. They’d been introduced by a mutual friend about four months ago and had hit it off perfectly. It helped that Mason had been understanding about both Clayton’s military caused issues and his minimal interest in sex.

“Yeah. Sure. What’s up?”

Mason looked down and licked his lips, as if trying to weigh his words carefully. Clayton’s heart sunk, because he immediately knew that something was wrong.

“I don’t think this relationship is going to work. I love you, I really, really do. I thought I could deal with the lack of sex thing, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Clayton looked down and just wordlessly nodded.

“I just thought it’d be better if I brought it up sooner than later. I still want to be friends though. You’re a cool dude to hang out with.”

Clayton nodded again and spoke quietly, “I kinda figured that this would happened. I do appreciate you telling me. I-uh…Can we do a raincheck on the movie?”

Mason gave the other man a sympathetic look, “Want me to head out?” At the nod, he straightened up, “Alright. Give me a text when you wanna hang out again.”

“Sure. I’ll see you around.” Clayton kept his face carefully neutral and watched his new ex offer a slight smile before walking out of the kitchen.

When the front door shut, Clayton let go the breath he’d been holding and then jumped when a plate in the sink next to him suddenly cracked in two. He leaned over and picked up one half of the plate. It had been perfectly split in two with no chips or jagged edges.

“Weird.”


	3. Quinten

“Babe. Don’t you love me?”

Clayton shot Quinten a bland look for even bringing up this bullshit again. He was getting tired of the constant guilt tripping. Maybe several years ago he would have caved to the demands for sex in order to keep the other man happy. But that was several years ago and his tolerance for bullshit had diminished dramatically since then. Two military tours, mutating into a hybrid freak, and being kidnapped by aliens tended to do that.

“Yes, I love you, no we’re not having sex, keep bitching and I’ll kick your ass right off my bed and out the door.” He took a sip of his drink and peered over his cup with a raised eyebrow, daring the other man to argue.

The light blue skinned man cracked a massive grin and brushed dark purple hair out of his face, “You’re fucking hot when you get pissy like that.”

Unlike the man flopped out on the bed, Clayton wasn’t amused and he swished his tail. Quinten ducked his head with a yelp as the tip narrowly missed hitting him.

“Goddammit, maybe if you would stop being such a fucking tease!”

“I’m not being a tease! _You’re_ seeing shit that isn’t there!” Clayton snapped at the accusation and violently lashed his tail. The relationship had started out…Okay. It had been bumpy at some areas with disagreements, but he had thought that they’d ironed everything out. Now, he wasn’t so sure. This was the third time in the past two weeks that they’d fought. It was always over the same thing: Clayton’s lack of interest in sex. Of course, he’d been upfront with Quinten about things.

The other man had claimed he’d be fine with it, and that had proven to be a lie.

“Yeah? What do you call that little ass sway you do when you walk like you’re some top tier hoe?” Quinten had gotten off the bed and onto his feet.

“…That is literally how I walk. Are you completely fucking blind or have you missed the fact that I’m absolutely not human from the waist down?” He was getting fed up with everything. Quinten had started out as being a pretty nice guy, but the longer the relationship went on, the more his personality had changed. Clayton blamed himself for not seeing this. He _was_ telepathic after all, but he tended to try and respect boundaries of the people he was with…And that included not digging around in their minds.

Quinten stalked over to him and glared. “How ‘bout you stop playing hard to get and we fuck?”

“No.” Clayton stared down at the other man with an unimpressed look. While he was a few inches taller than Quinten, the man in front of him also outweighed him due to have a much stockier frame than Clayton’s lanky build. Additionally, he knew that Quinten loved to brawl and was good at it.

“Come here you fucking freak.” Quinten also wasn’t a man who liked being told no. He moved to grab Clayton’s arm.

Unfortunately for Quinten, not only did Clayton know hand to hand combat from the military, he also knew mixed martial arts.

He grabbed Quintin’s arm, having already picked up on the intention the other man had. With little remorse, he twisted until he heard the wet sound of the elbow joint snapping. Quinten screamed and scrambled to grab the blaster off the desk, but he suddenly found his legs knocked out from under him thanks to Clayton’s tail.

Still holding onto his arm, Clayton twisted Quintin around so that his back was resting again his legs. The man’s screaming only got worse, but he wasn’t done yet. Clayton stepped on his hand and grabbed his jaw with a free hand, tilting his head up. Then he pressed the tip of his tail blade against Quintin’s throat.

“We are done. When we make the space port in the morning, I want you off. If I see you slinking around tomorrow evening, I will fucking throw you out of the airlock. Got it?”

Quinten only made a soft, pained noise. Feeling disgusted, Clayton walked out of the quarters, snagging the blaster as he passed the desk.


	4. Kieran

“Yeah, it shouldn’t take me long to get the target taken care of.” Clayton glanced at a small device that showed the local time. “Let’s say, eh…Five hours. I’ll grab dinner on the way back?”

“Sounds good. Get me that larva dish the locals do, yeah?”

“That shit is disgusting, Kieran. I don’t know how you can stand it, but yeah, I’ll grab you some.” He glanced up at the dark-haired man who was working on cleaning a blaster rifle. Kieran looked over at him and flashed an award-winning smile, but Clayton didn’t return it; his focus was on his upcoming hunt.

“You’re fantastic, you know that?”

“Of course.” Clayton replied before grabbing his gear and heading out.

The hunt went smoother than he had expected. He always liked to do extra planning before going after a bounty target. It made things easier and less prone to hiccups. As he had promised, he stopped at one of the street vendors to pick up the larva dish. He made sure to pay extra to get the spicy sauce since he knew Kieran loved it.

Upon returning to the hostel, he weaved his way through the crowd of people as he made his way towards the stairs that led up to the rented rooms. While the hunt had gone smoothly, he still had gotten banged up and looked forward to the idea of a hot shower…And maybe a shoulder rub from Kieran. His thoughts slowed when he heard a low moan from their shared room.

Kieran wasn’t normally one to look at porn. With a frown, he swiped the key chip and opened the door. Blandly, he stared at his boyfriend flat on his back with some red skinned alien on top of him. Considering how Kieran suddenly made a much louder noise, they either hadn’t noticed him or didn’t care. Since Clayton now considered the relationship over, he simply dropped the container of food onto the floor. The wet _thump_ followed by the larva making high pitched squeals caused the fuck session in front of him to end earlier than either participant would have preferred. His ex started stammering while Clayton began wordlessly gathering his things.

“Clayton, lemm—”

“Just tell me why.”

Kieran made a frustrated noise and pushed his current partner off of him; the man flopped onto his back, clearly not happy about being in the middle of this. “You never want to have sex, I don’t like porn, soo….” He lamely gestured at the alien next to him.

“Is this the first time?”

“….No. ” Kieran didn’t even attempt to make eye contact. “I’ve been finding someone at every port.”

Clayton just nodded and slung his backpack over his shoulder and started for the door.

“Clayton, wait. A-are we good?”

“Nope. I’m leaving you here, taking the ship, and regrouping with the Boss Ship. Enjoy your new fuck partner.” Clayton didn’t look back, even as Kieran begged him to come back.


	5. Gisselle

Bleary, Clayton opened his eyes and blinked at the wall. From the bathroom he could hear Gisselle softly humming to herself as she showered. Then he sighed and rubbed the side of his face. He hadn’t slept well again, and he wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t recall any nightmares, either. After a moment longer, he slowly rolled up into a sitting position, then jumped at a sudden sensation.

“What the fuck.”

He tugged the covers back and glanced down. Almost immediately, he wondered why his dick was out. Unlike many humanoid species, his remained internal unless one of three things were happening: he was pissing, he was cleaning himself, or he was aroused. The first two certainly hadn’t happened, and the third was unusual. Sure, he’d had the occasional wet dream as a teen, but nothing since being an adult. Normally, he would have assumed that he had slept particularly well and had been relaxed. However, the fact that he felt tired ruled that out. Weird.

After he had tucked himself away again, he got up to go put a shirt on. Before he could pull the shirt on, Gisselle slipped up behind him to hug him. The purple haired woman gave him a tight hug and kissed his shoulder blade. “Slept alright?”

“Not, really. I don’t know. I’m just tired. Figure I just slept wrong.”

She moved around to Clayton’s front and gave a slight pout. “That’s no good. I’ll go get breakfast then.”

Clayton smiled slightly, “Alright. I’ll take a shower then, or did you use up all the hot water?”

“You know I did.”

He just shook his head and laughed. She was sassy and he loved it. Honestly, being with her was the happiest he’d been in some time. She understood _everything_. It was…Well, not perfect, but pretty damn close to it.

Clayton spent the rest of the day prepping his gear for another bounty hunt…With Gisselle’s help, of course. She was another bounty hunter, just like him. While she tended to be a bit more gung-ho about things than he was, she had come to enjoy the amount of money his tendency to prepare brought.

That evening after dinner, Clayton finally got to take his shower. After drying off, he set his attention to brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. Gisselle wandered in to do the same but paused behind him to firmly press her hands into his lower back, at the base of his tail. His hips involuntarily bucked forward into the counter and he nearly choked on the toothpaste when he sucked in air.

For some damned fucking reason, the spot right at the base of his tail was sensitive. Highly sensitive, and was one of the few ways to seriously get him in the mood. Clayton absolutely hated it. He shifted himself away from her and coughed a few times before he was able to glare at her.

“ ** _Don’t_**.” Clayton knew damn well that she knew that he was rarely interested in sex before a hunt. After was debatable.

She only gave him a cheeky grin, “Oops.”

“Oops my fucking ass. That was on purpose.”

“And a fine ass it is.” And there was that sass that Clayton loved so much, but at the moment it just served to annoy him further. He sighed and just left the bathroom to go lay down. A few moments later, Gisselle joined him.

A noise woke him up. Clayton’s mind moved sluggish, trying to shift from deep sleep to being awake. Why was he on his back? A sensation caused him to suck in a breath and groan. Sleep slowly left his limbs but something heavy was holding him down. Another noise pulled him to the waking world and he opened his eyes.

In the low light, he stared at Gisselle on top of him, her fingers lightly dug into his stomach and her head bowed. She made another noise, softer this time as she continued to ride him.

“ _Gisselle?!_ ” Despite his voice still being slurred from sleep, he couldn’t mask the horrified tone, even he tried. She looked up, biting her lip, trying to muffled her noises. Clayton violently shoved her off of him and into the floor.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?”

“You?” She replied, seemingly unbothered.

“No shit!” He snapped and sat up, ignoring the ache in his lower back caused by sitting on his tail.

She started to move back onto the bed, “Figured I’d show you how much fun sex can be since you think it’s so boring.”

He wasn’t sure which was more horrific: the fact that he’d woken up to her fucking him or that she seemed to think he needed to be taught. The emotions he felt was a jumble. Horror, betrayal, vulnerability, anger. Clayton latched onto the anger.

Around them, items gave a rattle and he could barely make out the look of fear on Gisselle’s face. “Clayton, let me ex—”

“ _No._ ”

Gisselle was suddenly knocked back into the wall and she made a sharp sound of pain, both from the telekinesis keeping her pinned and by him forcing his way into her mind. She had forced herself onto him, wasn’t it fair that he did the same to her in kind? It was a little trick he had kept from her.

“Was this the first time?”

“Yes.” _No._

“Don’t lie to me. How many times have you done that to me? How often?”

Gisselle struggled to breathe, “Clayton, please.”

“Answer. Me.” He didn’t care that she was crying. She’d violated his trust in the worst way, both physically and emotionally.

“N-not that many times. Maybe once a month.” _I lost count. At least once a week._

“How long?”

She choked out a sound. “It hasn’t been that long, I swear.” _Since I discovered that little sweet spot._

He closed his eyes. Five months, then. Clayton inhaled deeply and dug his fingers into the sheet covering the mattress hard enough for the fabric to give. He opened his eyes again and clenched his jaw. The strain of using his telekinesis this long was starting to make his head ache, but his emotions fueled the ability. He fisted the sheet as he focused on Gisselle. Hard.

She suddenly screamed as Clayton shoved her harder against the metal wall. Time to find out which was tougher: the metal wall or her body. The crunch of bones being crushed was satisfying, in a way. Even as she started choking and spitting up blood, he only dully thought about how it was nice that the room didn’t have carpet.

Blood was hard to clean sometimes, after all.

It was only when she finally went limp that he stopped. If she was still alive, somehow, she wouldn’t be for long. Shifting up to his knees, Clayton sat there and stared at the blood smeared wall as he slowly coiled his tail around himself.

The ache of his headache finally caused him to lean forward and palm his eyes while he tried to swim through the mess of emotions he felt. Could these even be called emotions? He felt empty and hollow. Drained.

All he could really do was ask, ‘Why?’.


	6. Aftermath

Clayton sat there on the bed and stared at the wall. Beads of blood slowly rolled down, joining other beads until they were overcome by gravity and plummeted to the floor. His tail tightened around him and he closed his eyes as he heard the faint sound of the ship's engine cycling. Finally, he exhaled and opened his eyes again. He had no idea what to feel, if he should even feel anything. His world felt shattered and he was left to pick up the pieces. What had been such a trusting relationship was a lie. He still had the issue of the body to deal with, too. The rest of the ship would wake up soon and he wasn't sure how well they'd take the events. Finally, he pushed himself off the bed and gingerly stepped to the battered corpse of Gisselle. Just looking at her made him feel disgusted. How could she? He _trusted_ her. With everything. He yanked the sheet off the bed and rolled the body up into it before picking it up and leaving the quarters. No one was up yet, so the trek to the airlock was a quick and silent one.

Perhaps too silent. It gave him more time to churn over things in his mind. He felt surprisingly conflicted over it all. Had he made the right choice? He hadn't been able to give her what she needed, clearly and he loved her; would have been willing to do anything for her. Yet...She had claimed that he needed to be shown something, and had done what he didn't want. Was that even love on her part? Maybe she thought it had been, but he didn't see it as such. He watched the body float away from the ship and freeze for a moment before he was able to shake himself out of his thoughts. The room still needed cleaning and he needed another shower. He returned to his quarters and started scrubbing the wall and floor. With it being metal, the blood came off relatively easily. It was just getting into the small cracks of the floor that caused him issues.

When he was finally done, he stepped into the shower and cranked the hot water up. Briefly, the water that swirled down the drain turned red before running clear. Rather than making an attempt to really wash himself, he simply leaned against the wall and stood there till the water started to run cold. It was only then that he pulled himself out of the shower and started drying off. By this point, he could hear the rest of the ship waking up. Feeling drained and exhausted, Clayton pulled a fresh shirt on in order to face whatever might happen.

As it turned out, the crew wasn't exactly sympathetic. He couldn't really be surprised, if he was honest. Most jeered that he should feel 'lucky' for having been with someone. Because of this, they saw his reaction as murder, and not the self defense he saw it as. They expected to be able to throw _him_ out the airlock. None of them expected his telepathy, and thanks to his already unstable emotional state, he was able to make short work of nearly all the crew. The few who didn't turn on him were happy to help him frisk the bodies, boot them out the airlock, and then split the money between them...Along with whatever money the ship might bring after selling it.

From there, Clayton set out on his own. He found a small ship, well, small compared to the ship he had previously resided on. It was a battered fighter, more suited to having a small crew instead of one person. But...It had character. It came with an AI, a very dumb one at that. Barely capable of running the ship's systems and only able to speak a handful of words that related to the current state of things. So, Clayton tinkered. It gave him something to focus on instead of spiraling down into a self destructive pit. He couldn't really trust anyone, could he? Almost all of his relationships had blown up in his face and caused him pain of some sort. His last one was just the final straw. No more.

He tinkered, he did upgrades. He taught the AI he'd named Xena. She was dumb at first, barely able to string together coherent sentences....But as AIs are prone to doing, she _learned_ , she adapted, and she grew. After a year, she had developed a personality. Sassy, smart, a little bit feisty. Everything he loved in a man or a woman, without the concern of sex. She didn't have a body, and had no desire to have one.

"I have a body," she once told him, "I am the ship. I can go anywhere in the galaxy if I want."

So, she became his companion. She kept him company, helped him in battles, and overall just kept an eye on him. That had really been what he'd been after in all of his relationships: companionship. But with relationships came the issue of sex and with the issue of sex came the problem of people pushing him into doing things he didn't want. He was done with relationships. He was done with trusting people. The only person that mattered now was him.

...And Xena, of course. Then again, she wasn't _exactly_ a person, even if he treated her like one.

That wasn't to say that he didn't engage in the occasional one night stand. While he usually wasn't interested in sex, he still occasionally got the itch that needed to be scratched...But one night stands were easy. There was no emotional attachment. It was an unspoken agreement between two adults to meet for a night, fuck, and then go their separate ways in the morning. Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am....Or Sir, as the case might be. It worked for him, and he slowly moved past what had happened. The sense of betrayal and helplessness faded in time. He had been a victim, yes, but he was also a survivor. He was a fighter. That was what he did. Sure, he'd carry the emotional scars with him for the rest of his life, but it was just another to add to the list. He'd survived those, too, hadn't he? It helped that there wasn't any way he could really blame himself. 

And then...And then he met another. Sassy, sarcastic, feisty, quick with a blade, and even quicker to try and stab someone. He promised to himself he wouldn't feel, swore it wouldn't happen. And yet...While Xena provided companionship and someone to talk to, he still missed being able to _touch_. To wake up in the morning with his limbs tangled up with someone else's. And so he fell. Hard.

The first time the other man had touched the base of his tail, it had been purely by accident during a back-rub. Clayton had made an embarrassingly pornesque sound and then all but flung himself off the bed to get away. The action had threatened to bring suppressed memories to the surface. His partner had been amused at the sound but concerned at the reaction. Clayton, after calming himself, simply said that he didn't like that spot being touched and that it was off limits unless he gave permission. Without going into too much detail, he vague spoke about what had happened to him, and stated that someone had used it against him in the past.

He was offered an apology and a promise that it wouldn't happen again.

The second time it happened was when they were having sex. His partner was the type who was very tactile with wandering hands that liked to feel and touch. It had never been an issue in the past, but then he felt a sharp sensation radiate up his spine and down his tail. If he tried to claim that having the base of his tail massaged during sex wasn't pleasurable, he would have been lying. Fucking Christ it felt good. His movements became more frantic with need, which was clearly enjoyed by his partner who continued the touches. Clayton didn't last for too much longer and he was honestly certain that it had been the most intense orgasm he'd ever had in his life. But he was left feeling betrayed and anxious due to the broken promise. He worried that the other, knowing how pleasurable it was, would continue to exploit it. Fears of what Gisselle had done bubbled up, the first time he'd thought about what had happened in several years. His stomach churned and he simply left, wordlessly.


	7. Epilogue

He pulled his hands away from the other's head, feeling drained over showing him everything. Part of him hated how the man looked: pale, eyes teary, and a look of horrified shock. Clayton just felt that he needed to know _why_ he had reacted the way he did. Words wouldn't really do it justice. He also knew that due to the nature of some of the memories that emotions had bled through, he just wasn't sure how much.

"I..Why didn't you tell me?" The other's voice was hoarse and tight.

Clayton looked away, feeling unwilling to look the man in the face. After a moment, he looked down at his hands resting in his lap. "I don't like talking about it. I should have been more specific about things, but...You promised and I figured you understood."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't. You enjoyed it, I just thought..." He stumbled over his words, trying to both process what he'd been shown and the implications of why Clayton had reacted as he had.

"I guess I didn't explain clearly enough. I shouldn't be mad at you, I guess...You didn--" He was interrupted by suddenly being dragged into a hug and the other man burying his face into his shoulder. Seconds later, the other's shoulders started shaking as he cried and Clayton barely made out the sobbed out 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry'.

A few moments passed and the other finally sat up, his face streaked with tears. "I'm glad you killed her. I wouldn't have been as kind."

Despite the emotional turmoil plain on the man's face, Clayton could see the flames of a seething anger kindling. It was a strange feeling, to see someone angry over something that had happened to him. Most had waved it away or simply had been indifferent.

"I don't want that to happen again. Please. Give me another chance. I..." He stopped, visibly at a loss for words and grasping on what could be said. Clayton, however, could see the other's emotional state clearly. He was horrified, angry, immensely regretful, and truthful.

Finally, Clayton nodded, "Okay. We'll figure something out later. I don't really think we're really in the right state for that kind of topic."

"I want to watch a dumb comedy."

"....Yeah. Me too."


End file.
